


Where You're (Running Away) From

by ApparentLeigh



Category: In the Heights - Miranda
Genre: F/M, Family, Fluff and Angst, Grief/Mourning, Growing Up Together, I always wanted to write Fluff and Angst, I swear this was meant to be a page long, Kidfic, oh welp, partially anyways
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2016-05-15
Packaged: 2018-05-25 02:26:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6176617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ApparentLeigh/pseuds/ApparentLeigh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A story about home, </p><p>and trying to run away from it. </p><p>And failing, and trying again, and maybe eventually succeeding. With some help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> *a paper aeroplane floats from the sky, directly into your outstretched hands...
> 
> it reads NO COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT INTENDED
> 
> You nod solemnly, and the aeroplane is whisked from your grasp into places unknown*
> 
> **sniff** so beautiful. don't sue me
> 
> \-----
> 
> So I started this as a kind of character study and then it spiralled. Like, a lot. And here we are.
> 
> (please do comment; even just to say hi. this is quite a small fandom.)

The summer of Vanessa's eighth year was the fourth hottest of her life.

Unaware of this interesting statistical factoid, Vanessa just knew that had to wash her shirts in the sink twice as often as usual, to get rid of the sweat stains. An old piece of piping, begged from Mr. Rosario, held her sliding window open at night, to let in wisps of smoggy breeze and eight million mosquitoes. She put toothpaste on the bites.

The summer of Vanessa's eighth year, she decided to run away from home.

Later, she decided that the vice-principle of her school was to blame. Some suit from on high had decreed that instead of ending the academic year with the usual week of movies and macramé or whatever, the inner-city school needed to think about the dangers its children were going to face, running wild in NYC over the summer. There was a series of special assemblies: mostly along the lines of Just Say No (to drugs, alcohol, strangers, turnstile-jumping, you name it.)

Thing was, they'd had this stuff all year, and the boredom levels grew dangerously high, dangerously fast. When they showed the Lou Albano drugs PSA _again_ , there was something close to a full-on riot. Most of the teachers seemed keen to get back to the usual end-of-year stuff – there was talk of a water fight – but the vice principle wasn't letting things go that easy. She pulled one last you-need-to-take-this- _seriously_ move out of her bag: the Scary Story.

“I knew a girl once that smoked pot and her _brain died._ ”

This had most of them perking up their ears. Everyone likes a Scary Story.

“There was a boy at a school I used to teach at – he went with a stranger to go buy candy and _they found his body a week later._ ”

Many excited whispers. The VP looked gratified.

(She would be less gratified in the following days, when complaints from the parents started pouring in r.e. nightmares.)

There was an extended tale about a group of kids that bought a pack of cigarettes in an unspecified alleyway and smoked them for fun except the cigarettes were _poisoned_ and they all _died horribly_ – everyone was rapt.

And then there was a story about a girl. _Who ran away from home_.

Wait.

She ran away from home?

_She was just nine._

Nine? I'm almost nine.

_We never saw her again._

What.

_She's probably dead somewhere, her poor family –_

Yeah, okay, hold up... she ran away? Like, away-away? She left home? People can do that? Kids can do that? They can leave? Why did no-one tell me this?

_Her poor, poor family –_

Ha. Sure, her poor family. Did anyone ask her poor family why it was she wanted to run away?

Also, how do you know she died? She might be fine. She could be great.

The rest of the assembly was lost on Vanessa. The concept of “running away” was not totally unfamiliar to her – but it was something that belonged in ancient picture books about white boys with spotted handkerchief bundles tied to the ends of sticks. She had never considered it as an option before.

By the time she was waiting by the school gate to walk Nina home, Vanessa had made up her mind. She would run away. She would never see her mother again. Her mother would cry a lot, but she deserved it. Vanessa knew that mothers weren't supposed to spend all day stuck to their recliners with sweat, drinking glass after glass of foil-bagged wine over ice, topping up the glass when it got half-empty and keeping the same ice cubes so she could pretend she was still on her first. Mothers were supposed to do your laundry and help you with your homework and show you how to make the mosquito bites stop itching.

Thrilled at the idea of escape,Vanessa forgot that it should be a secret, and went right ahead and blabbed to Nina.

She regretted it immediately, as Nina's eyes filled with tears.

“You can't go. You have to come play with me.”

“You have lots of other friends to play with, Nina. And I can come back and visit.”

Nina considered this. “But you have to walk me to school!”

“It's the end of school, Nina. It's vacation,” Vanessa said. “And next year you can walk with Usnavi. You'd like that, wouldn't you?”

Nina's lip was still wobbling. “But where will you go?”

Vanessa smiled wide. “Somewhere _cold._ Alaska. Or, um... Oregon.” Oregon was cold, right?

“Oregon?” Nina wailed. “That's so far away!”

“Nina, shush!” They were back in the _barrio_ by now, where people knew them. Someone might hear.

“Please don't go, Vanessa, please?”

Nina tugged on Vanessa's sleeve, whimpering embarrassingly. Batting her away, Vanessa saw Abuela Claudia sitting on her stoop – right in earshot. She smiled in greeting at the girls, but her eyes were a little too sharp. Vanessa swallowed as she waved back.

She turned to Nina.

“Okay, Nina, calm down. I'm not going away.”

“You're not?” Nina sniffed.

“No,” Vanessa said, as loudly as she could. “I was just joking, anyway.”

“Oh.” Nina wiped her eyes. “Okay.”

Vanessa wanted to start crying herself at the look on Nina's face.

“I don't even know where Oregon is,” she said, putting her arm around Nina's shoulders and steering her right past Abuela Claudia.

Half an hour later, Vanessa was sitting on her bedroom floor, her school atlas open in front of her, along with a bus timetable. She hadn't packed yet – there was still time. After her mistake of telling Nina the plan, Vanessa realised she was going to have to be a lot more careful, and decided to wait til it was dark.

Or first thing in the morning! Yes. Vanessa felt a flush of genius. Dawn was dark and quiet, but no-one would be suspicious if they saw her outside. They'd think she was on a milk run, or –

Her brilliant plans were interrupted by the buzz of voices. Someone was here, talking to her mom... Vanessa couldn't make out a whole lot, but the voice that wasn't her mom sounded kind of mad. And her mom... was crying? It sounded like she was crying. Vanessa stood, wondering if she should go and see what was happening, forgetting momentarily that she had decided not to care about her mom any more.

The door opened while she was still standing in the middle of the floor. Abuela Claudia smiled at her.

“Vanessa.”

“Abuela?” Vanessa was majorly confused. “What's wrong? Did something happen?”

“Your mother is going to the laundromat,” said Abuela.

“The laundromat?” Vanessa's mother hadn't been to the laundromat in over a month.

“Do you have anything to clean?” Abuela asked, walking right in like she owned the place. Vanessa shrugged and indicated a pile of things on the floor. She'd done her best, washing in the sink, but nothing had smelled quite clean after she was done, so she'd left everything out for when she remembered to try again.

Abuela tutted. “Well?”

“Well, what?” retorted Vanessa, as rudely as she dared. Abuela folded her arms.

Vanessa wasn't brave enough to keep pretending that she didn't know what she was supposed to do, so she picked up all the clothes and gave them to Abuela.

“The sheets off your bed, too,” Abuela instructed.

Vanessa complied immediately this time, though her cheeks burned as she handed the sheets over. She hadn't even thought to change them since she'd got them – months ago – and they were covered in weird wobbly sweat stains. Abuela didn't even blink as she took the sheets and handed them to Vanessa's mom, who had appeared holding a large laundry bag and eating an orange that Vanessa was pretty sure had not come from their kitchen.

“Make sure you finish that,” Abuela said, indicating the orange.

Vanessa was amazed to see her mother smile and nod, despite her eyes still being a little red. Then she smiled at Vanessa, and told her she she would be back soon. She looked like she wanted to say something else, but she just put the laundry bag over her shoulder and disappeared.

Vanessa turned back to Abuela, who was leaning down to inspect the atlas next to her foot.

“What's this?” she asked.

_Crap._

“Homework,” Vanessa blurted.

Abuela smiled. “Perhaps you should tidy it away. It's vacation now, isn't it?”

“Oh... yeah.”

“Well then.” Abuela frowned. “What is that on your legs?”

Vanessa glanced down at the blue and white smears dotted from the hemline of her shorts to her ankles. “It's toothpaste.” She explained about the mosquitoes, and how she read in a book once the toothpaste was supposed to help, although it didn't really.

Abuela nodded as she listened. Then she said, “wait here. I'll be back in ten minutes.”

She touched Vanessa on the chin as she left, lifting her head a little.

Vanessa looked around at her room. It was kind of embarrassing what a mess it was.

But she was leaving. It didn't matter. The next place she lived would be a lot nicer.

She was leaving.

By the time she heard the front door again, Vanessa had wiped the dust off her shelves, straightened her comic books and shoes, and thrown away the empty soda cans that had been nesting in the space between her bed and her side table.

She was standing on a chair by the window, trying to reattach a couple of loose curtain hooks, when Abuela came bustling back into the room. She was followed by Usnavi, who was carrying a clunky box fan. He hesitated on the threshold of the room, eyes averted, skinny arms tight around the fan.

“Um,” said Vanessa, “you can come in.” _Weirdo._

He sidled into the room, keeping his eyes on Abuela as though making eye contact with a girl's room might turn him to stone.

“Usnavi, set that up for us. There's an outlet there by the window.”

“Okay, Abuela.”

“And see if you can get that curtain straight.”

Abuela took Vanessa's hand and led her out of the room – Vanessa caught a glimpse of Usnavi's panicked face as he realised he was being abandoned – and led her to the bathroom.

“Is that fan yours?” asked Vanessa, as Abuela sat her down on the closed toilet seat and pulled a white tube of something out of her purse.

“I'm loaning it to you,” said Abuela. “You'll have to take good care of it. Don't leave it plugged in when you go out, and make sure to dust it every day.”

Vanessa nodded, impressed by the responsibility she was being given. The fan was in _her_ room. _She_ was going to take care of it.

“Now, this is for those bites,” said Abuela. “Much better than toothpaste. Give me your leg.”

Vanessa opened her mouth to say that she could put cream on her own darn legs, thank you very much, but Abuela had already knelt in front of her. She stuck out her leg without another word, fighting the sudden and inexplicable urge to cry.

“What's this stuff?” she asked, to distract herself. It felt _amazing_ on the bites.

“Magic cream,” said Abuela, keeping her face totally straight, though her eyes twinkled.“It's my only tube, so I can't let you keep it, you see.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Instead, I want you to come to me if you get bitten and I'll put it on myself. Okay?”

“Um...”

Abuela was looking very steadily at her. Vanessa realised that if she agreed, she would have to stay here – at least for the summer – and that was exactly what Abuela wanted. Her face grew hot, and it was on the tip of her tongue to tell the old lady to go mind her own business.

Instead, she started crying. Like she was _Nina_. Geez.

Abuela was pretty cool, though. She just patted Vanessa's knee and continued applying the cream, then told her to blow her nose.

When they emerged from the bathroom, Usnavi was sitting on the floor of the hall outside Vanessa's bedroom, looking cross.

“Usnavi, are you still here?” smiled Abuela. “That's a long time to wait.”

“I _know._ But you didn't say I could go.” He stood and scuffed his feet, still looking only at Abuela. “I wasn't gonna interrupt.”

Vanessa realised he'd heard her crying and almost ran back into the bathroom so she could die of embarrassment in private, but Abuela tapped Usnavi sharply on the head and informed him that waiting was good for the soul.

“ _Paciencia y fe_ ,” she said to them both. Then she turned her ear to the door in response to a familiar shout. “Can I tempt either of you with a piragua?”

Usnavi _finally_ made eye contact with Vanessa as they both grinned.

Later, lying on clean sheets, her mouth syrup-sticky, with the window closed and the fan on, Vanessa thought she might be able to stay here a little longer – at least for the summer. Usnavi had promised to teach her to skateboard.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to iScrubDrumsForNoMan for providing Usnavi's surname.
> 
> Oh. Also I made the dispatch place a little bigger and gave Kevin an office. Shh. Reasons.

The fall before Vanessa turned thirteen, she decided to run away from home.

The decision was not carefully thought-out; it was made in under a minute, as Vanessa stumbled down the stairwell of her apartment building, the side of her face throbbing from the blow she'd just received.

_I'm out. I'm getting out, now. I'm never going back there._

Her mom didn't usually have boyfriends, and Vanessa had been wary of Shane from the start, almost on principle. He'd been nice enough – nice enough for her mom to feel comfortable having him over a few times – but he'd always been curt to Vanessa. He didn't like kids.

He _really_ didn't like Vanessa.

And this was the first time she'd been left alone with him. Her mom had run out for something, and Vanessa – what had she even said? What had she done, she'd done something, what was it –

Vanessa nearly fell the last few steps down to ground level, her knees jarring as she righted herself, and pushed the door open with both hands.

He'd yelled at her – she'd left some stuff out in the living room and he'd tripped – she'd snapped back, she was watching TV and she didn't want to listen to anything he had to say – what had she said? Oh, right. You don't even live here, it's not your floor for me to keep clean. Something like that...

And then. Out of nowhere. She hadn't been expecting it. Should she have been expecting it?

She saw how people looked at her sometimes, like something ruined and broken, and they'd probably be surprised to hear that this had never happened before. Things sucked, but – not this, never this. This was too much.

Where was she even going? The bus stop, maybe – she had some money in her pocket, she would get as far away as she could and then –

“Watch it!”

Blinded with tears, Vanessa had run right into someone.

“Sorry!” she wiped her eyes and tried to run around the person, but they had grabbed her arm.

“Vanessa?”

It was Benny, the kid who'd moved here just after Christmas. He was in her grade at school.

He was holding her arm tightly. Staring.

“Let me go, I have to go – Benny – ”

“What happened?”

“I have to _go_ , let _go –_ ”

There was a shout from behind them – Shane.

Vanessa wrenched her arm away from Benny's grip and sprinted down the street. She heard footsteps catching up – but they were too light to be Shane's.

“This way. Vanessa, in here, come on – ”

It was Benny. He didn't grab her arm again, but overtook her and turned into an alleyway. Vanessa followed. They ran fast, no talking, Benny taking the lead: out of the alley and down the next street, almost to the corner. For a moment Vanessa wondered if they were going to the De La Vega's bodega, but Benny stopped at another door. Nina's dad's car place.

Vanessa had only been inside a couple of times before – Nina liked it because her parents were there, but it was pretty boring otherwise, and scarily clean. It was not a place for kids – but Benny ran in like he lived there.

Vanessa thought that perhaps they might hide out back, but Benny went and knocked on Mr. Rosario's office door, ignoring the indignant reprimands from the guy manning the dispatch desk.

“What are you doing?” Vanessa hissed.

Mr. Rosario was kind of scary and all, but it wasn't like he was the police. If Vanessa was going to talk to any grown-up right now, it was going to be one who could loan her bus fare. She wasn't going to ask _Mr. Rosario_ for bus fare. Nina insisted he was really nice, but Vanessa had had to take her word for it.

Benny knocked again.

“Mr. Rosario?”

The door opened. Vanessa held her breath as Mr. Rosario stepped out of his office gloom.

“Benny, if you're in trouble again already, I'd rather be spared the details, I'm – ”

Mr. Rosario caught sight of Vanessa and stopped dead.

For a moment, it looked as though he also might be holding his breath. His mouth looked weird and tight.

“What happened?”

His voice was quiet. He looked at Vanessa, and then at Benny, who shrugged and looked back at Vanessa as well.

“It was, um,” Vanessa's voice caught dangerously and she moved her hand to cover her mouth.

Mr. Rosario held out a hand to her, and ushered both her and Benny into his office, away from the gawping dispatch guy.

“Have a seat,” he said, a little gruffly, fishing a tissue box out of a desk drawer.

Vanessa sat on the creaking and cracked vinyl sofa. The office wasn't was as dark inside as she'd thought... just a little dusty. It could use a decorative lamp, maybe.

Benny remained standing, twisting his hands together awkwardly, but Mr. Rosario sat next to Vanessa.

“Was it your mother?” he asked, his voice still quiet.

Vanessa shook her head. Her throat burned, and she knew she wouldn't be able to speak without sobbing. Her hands were shaking.

“The boyfriend?” guessed Mr. Rosario.

She nodded. He nodded slowly back. He looked like he was making a great effort to keep his expression unchanged.

“Was this the first time this happened?”

Another nod.

“Was your mom there?”

Vanessa shook her head again, but the question sparked across her brain. She jumped up.

“Mom! I have to go back – ”

“Hold on, Vanessa, just give me a second,” Mr. Rosario stood, blocking the door.

“She'll be back any second, he might still be mad, he could hit her as well – ”

Vanessa was stronger than her mother. She imagined her mom being struck, and shattering like glass. She had to get back and save her.

“Vanessa!”

The shout was to loud for the small space, but it got Vanessa's attention. Mr. Rosario held his hands out, a gesture of peace.

“Just give me a second, all right?”  
  
“But – ”

“Please. Sit.”

Vanessa sat. She wasn't sure why.

“Benny?”

Benny jumped to attention. “Yes, sir?”

“Go upstairs to my place and ask Nina to come down here. Tell her to bring a bottle of cold water and a clean face cloth.”

“Got it.” Benny shot off on his errand of mercy.

“Vanessa, listen. I'm going to go grab Mr. De La Vega. You know him?” asked Mr. Rosario.

Vanessa nodded.

“Okay. Me and him, we're going to go make sure your mom is all right, and we'll tell her what happened. You'll be okay here by yourself for a moment?”

Vanessa hesitated before nodding. She glanced at the door. Shane didn't know she was here. He couldn't find her – right? But what if...

Mr. Rosario seemed to understand as he followed her gaze. He pulled a key out of his pocket and handed it to her.

“You can lock the door behind me, okay? I'll tell Rico at the desk that if anyone asks, you're not here. You'll be safe. And Nina will be here soon.”

_I'll be safe._

“Thank you.”

After Mr. Rosario had left, and Vanessa had double-checked that she'd locked the door – she found herself wondering how he'd known exactly what she needed.

Before she could get past her initial guesses – none of them pleasant – Vanessa heard a knock and her heart started hammering.

_It's not Shane. Of course it's not him, why would he think you were here, how would he know? It's not him._

“Vanessa?”

_It's Nina,_

_it's safe._

Nina was glancing round nervously when Vanessa opened the door. Then she took one look at Vanessa and started crying.

“Geez, kid, what's the matter with you?” Vanessa started, but she couldn't inject enough life into her voice to make the joke work. She slumped back onto the sofa, gratefully allowing Nina to cuddle her.

Benny poked his head around the door.

“Where's Mr. Rosario?”

“He went to ask Usnavi's dad for help – um, to go talk to my mom.”

Benny's eyes went wide.

“They're going to go beat that guy up! I'm going to watch.”

“No, we're not, and no, you're not,” came an authoritative voice.

Mr. Rosario reappeared in the doorway, pushing Benny lightly to the side so he could reach his desk.

“Have you not gone already?” Vanessa felt her heart thudding in panic. “Please, you have to hurry, my mom – she's not strong, she's not going to – ”

“ _C_ _álmate_ _,_ sweetheart,” said Mr. Rosario. “I just needed to take my cell phone. We're going now.”

“Yes,” said Benny.

“Not you,” snapped Mr. Rosario.

“But I want to help!”

“Me too,” came another voice from the hallway.

“Usnavi, I told you to stay with your mother,” said yet _another_ voice.

“But da-aad – ”

Vanessa slouched low, holding Nina between herself and the rest of the room. She didn't need the entire freaking _barrio_ to witness her like this. She leant her forehead against Nina's shoulder.

Mr. Rosario, once again understanding without being told, had already started herding Benny out of the door.

“Come on, we don't need a crowd here. Benny, go home.”

“You too, Usnavi.”

“Dad – ”

“ _Stay._ ”

“Ugh. Fine.”

“Benny, you too.”

“In your dreams! Come on, let's go.”

“Fine. Come on, Kevin.”

“Dad! If Benny gets to go – ”

“Benny isn't my son, he doesn't have to do what I tell him. You do. _Stay_.”

They finally, _finally_ left, except for Usnavi, who remained muttering to himself in the hallway.

During this exchange, Nina had taken out a bottle of water and a face cloth. She started dabbing at Vanessa's cheek.

“Ow! That hurts, Nina.”

“Are you surprised? You've got a massive freaking bruise right there.”

“I do?”

“Yeah. And the side of your face is red. The water should help – it's not that cold, though.”

“We could get some ice,” suggested Vanessa. “Hey, Usnavi? Are you still here?” she called.

There was answering cough. “Do you want me to come in?”

Vanessa closed her eyes in gratitude for the boy's ingrained politeness. Abuela Claudia should be canonized.

“No, thanks,” she said. “But could you get some ice?” The bodega would have some.

“Yeah, okay.” He sounded pleased to have something to do.

Nina fetched the ice in once he'd brought it, and tended to Vanessa carefully as they waited for news.

***

News arrived in the form of Benny, who sprinted in, right past Usnavi, who seemed to be telling him to hold on.

“Vanessa – it was amazing, I'm sorry you missed it – ”

“Sorry, Vanessa, he – ” Usnavi slipped in behind his friend, but stopped apologising when he saw Vanessa's face. “Shit.”

Nina squealed and threw the the face cloth at him, even as he realised what he'd said and clapped a hand to his mouth. Benny laughed.

“Sorry, sorry,” said Usnavi, face reddened, eyes on the floor.

“You can go to confession later,” said Benny, punching Usnavi in the arm. “ _Listen_.”

“I don't want to hear the details,” said Vanessa. “I just want to know if he's gone, you don't have to tell me if he – if he hit anyone, or – ”

“He didn't,” said Benny. “Your mom did.”

“What?”

“Mr. Rosario told her what happened, and Shane was right there, and he was all like _you only got her side of it and bla bla bla_ and your mom just turns and knees him in the balls.”

“What!?”

“Hard. Like, full on, bam, like that – no, like this – ”

Benny grabbed Usnavi, apparently wishing to re-enact the moment.

“Don't you freaking dare, man.”

“I won't do it _really_ , I just – ”

“ _Back off_!”

“I just want to show them – ”

“I'm sure their imaginations work perfectly well – ” Usnavi's voice rose to a squeak as he held his hands out protectively.

“Fine,” Benny huffed, releasing his friend. “But it was epic. She totally _dropped_ him, like he was on the floor and everything, and she was still trying to kick him. They were kind of carrying him down the stairs when I left.”

“Can I go home, then?” asked Vanessa.

It felt kind of sick to suddenly want to go home, when she only ever wanted to get out of there – what did it say when day-to-day life with her mom suddenly looked desirable?

It _was_ kind of cool, Vanessa guessed, that her mom was so up for defending her like that.

Although... she was probably drinking already, to calm herself down.

Vanessa grimaced, thinking about it.

“Oh, is your face hurting again? Can I have the cloth back?” Nina pointed at where she'd thrown it.

“That's not going on my face after it's been on the floor!” shrieked Vanessa, immediately distracted.

“Yeah, gross,” said Benny.

“It's not that dirty, look.” Usnavi grabbed the cloth and threw it in Benny's face. There was a brief tussle which ended with Benny tipping the remaining ice cubes down the back of Usnavi's shirt.

Vanessa didn't want to go home, not really. But for these idiots... ( _“You're the worst, Benny!” “Hey, man, chill... get it, chill? Hey, no, get that cloth away from me, that's disgusting – stop it, Nina!”_ ) and for surprisingly cool parents... she figured she could stay around a while longer.

 


	3. Chapter 3

The winter of Vanessa's fifteenth year was the coldest she would ever remember.

That is – she would have colder winters over the course of her life, several of them, but this would always seem colder than any other. It was the winter the De La Vegas had fallen ill.

They had been caught out by the first cold snap. The air was icy and bitter for a week, before giving way to snow –  Vanessa had pulled on last winter's coat and helped Benny build a dirt-smeared snowman on the corner. Nina had borrowed a spare tyre from her dad's place and tied a string around it so she could pull Sonny around in it like a sled.

“Best baby-sitter ever!” he'd crowed.

Usnavi had been called back inside, and did not return to play on any of the following snow days. Word was passed around quietly, heads were shaken sympathetically. It was rare to catch a glimpse of Usnavi in the following weeks; he sent Sonny to pick up his homework from school, and stayed close to home. Quiet. In pre-mourning.

The De La Vegas seemed to lose strength in absolute tandem, as though performing a requiem by duet.

It was far too fast – a matter of weeks, all told. Rumour said that Mr. De La Vega had turned first, that it was for him they had called the ambulance – but by the time the flashing lights had arrived to wake the street, it was all over. Both gone.

Just like that.

***

It was after the funeral that Vanessa decided to run away.

***

Vanessa caught a ride to the service with the Rosarios, and then back to the – what was it called, a reception? A wake? She'd asked Sonny, but he'd said that his parents had talked about funerals in the Dominican Republic lasting nine days or something, which didn't sound right.

Vanessa wondered if Usnavi knew, or if he even cared.

The gathering, then, or whatever it should be called – was as loud as the funeral had been silent, half the street's occupants packed into the tiny apartments of Abuela Claudia and Sonny's parents, and the small hallway between them.

Vanessa kept a look out for Usnavi when she arrived, but when she spotted him he was surrounded by a hoard of emotional friends-and-relatives, his expression shuttered; so she hung back in the kitchen for a while and helped Abuela Claudia.

She had just finished her second load of dishes – Abuela had gone to sit down – when she was interrupted by Benny.

“Have you seen Usnavi?” he asked.

“Not since I got here.” Vanessa grabbed a dish towel to dry her hands with. “He might be in the other apartment?”

“Not that I could see.” Benny frowned. “I guess... maybe he needed time alone, or whatever... I don't know. I've never had this before.” He waved his arms vaguely, as though to indicate the grief that surrounded them.

“Me neither.”

“Well. I just – I have to go now. I wanted to say goodbye.”

“I'll tell him if I see him.”

“Okay. I didn't want to text, y'know?”

“I know, Benny. Maybe later in the week we can all do something together.”

“Yeah. That'd be nice.”

Vanessa put away the dishes that she didn't think would be needed again, and went in search of Usnavi herself. Being a lot less polite than Benny – and armed with a working knowledge of Spanish – she was able to circumnavigate the sea of relatives until she made her way to the small sewing room next to Abuela Claudia's bedroom that she happened to know had a futon mattress stashed in the corner.

She waited until the coast was clear, and knocked.

No answer.

“Usnavi?” she whispered, hoping the sound carried. “It's me. Tell me if you don't want me to come in.”

“Vanessa?”

This was all the invitation needed. Vanessa slipped inside and closed the door behind her.

Usnavi was still wearing his funeral clothes, minus the jacket; he sat with his back against the wall and his legs stretched out across the futon mattress, which was taking up all the available floor space.

He wasn't crying, but the carefully closed expression he'd worn earlier was gone. He looked – Vanessa found herself unable to move for a moment. He looked like nothing she'd ever seen. Some emotion she could never dream of. She could not imagine ever feeling enough in her entire life to look like that. It was terrifying.

Then he blinked, and was her friend again; but so much younger than she'd ever known him, and so much older than she'd ever be.

She wanted to step forward, but then she'd be standing on the mattress.

“Um,” she said. “Are you... do you need anything? I mean, can I get you anything? Water?”

“Thanks. I mean, no, thanks.” He clambered awkwardly to his feet. “I should get back out there.”

“Why?”

“Because,” he shrugged. Then he sat back down again, landing so hard he bounced. “Actually, that's a really good question. I have no idea. I'm supposed to, I guess?”

Vanessa nodded. “It's like a family thing, right?”

Usnavi nodded. “So they tell me. They all said we were supposed to _mourn_ together, like really mourn, wailing and whatever.”

“I think I'd avoid that, too,” admitted Vanessa, sitting cautiously down on the edge of the mattress.

“I think they did it before the funeral.” Usnavi looked at his hands. “But I shouldn't _want_ to avoid this. I should want to understand it, right? It was all they talked about, these last few weeks. What life used to be like there, how they wished they could go back and see it again.”

Vanessa didn't ask who _they_ were.

Usnavi pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes.

“It's like – ” his voice hitched, and Vanessa gripped the edge of the mattress hard, because if he started crying she was going to want to run away and that was _not going to happen, dammit, be brave_.

“It's like they were part of this – this whole other life that I never knew, and they tried to tell me, but I didn't _get it,_ and now – ” he leaned forward, dropping his hands and pressing his face into his raised knees. “Now I can't. Ever. It's all gone, all my chances.”

He was crying freely now, though he kept his head down.

Vanessa kept quiet, reflecting on what he'd said. She had never thought about where she _came from_ – aside from knowing, geographically, so she could put it on forms and whatever.

There were vague memories of sunlight and yellow walls and her Abuela and stolen sips of cinnamon coffee. Nothing more.

There was no real desire to discover her roots, or anything that would bond her to either of her parents, but surely she'd feel differently if she'd had parents like Usnavi's. She'd want to feel connected.

She watched Usnavi's shoulders work up and down as he ran out of stifled sobs and his breathing returned to normal. She waited another minute, wondering if she should pat his hand or something, but instead asked:

“Have you tried it? You know, mourning? Like they said?” 

“Uh-uh.”

“You could try it. It might be cathartic.”

Usnavi hiccuped wetly. “I don't think so. Not my thing.”

Vanessa leaned over and grabbed a pillow from the end of the mattress.

“Here,” she said, holding it out. Usnavi looked at her like she'd cracked. “You can scream into it."

"I'm not sure if that's what they meant."

"It still might help. I do it all the time.”

“I don't want to scream.”

Vanessa lowered the pillow. “No?”

“No, I just want...” Usnavi looked like he was collapsing. “I just want to go back – just a month, back in time. Can you believe that? It was a month ago, they were fine, they were _just here,_ and now _what am I supposed to do_? What the hell am I supposed to do?”

He closed his fists, closed his eyes.

“I hate them.”

For a second, Vanessa thought she'd misheard. Then she snapped her fingers under Usnavi's nose. His head whipped up.

“No you don't.”

“Yes I do.”

“ _No, you don't_.”

“I hate – what they did,” Usnavi said defiantly.

“That's fine,” Vanessa nodded. “Hate that. You don't hate them.”

“They _left me here._ ”

“Yes. Hate that they left you. That's okay.”

“They left me here. Both of them. At the same time. Like... did they want to die together? Everyone keeps saying that, _they went together_ , like it's romantic or some shit, but that just means that they loved each other more than they loved me. Right? ”

 _Maybe_ , Vanessa didn't say.

“Do you believe that?”

He sighed, shuddering. “A little. Sometimes.”

They sat for a moment, thinking about parents, and lack thereof.

“I guess I'll forgive them eventually.”

“You will. You're that type of person.”

“You think?”

Usnavi smiled a little. Another brief silence fell, during which Vanessa rearranged her position on the mattress so it didn't feel like she was about to fall over, and Usnavi wiped ineffectually at his face with the sleeve of his shirt.

“So how come you're in here?” Vanessa asked.

“My aunt and uncle's place was crowded. We've got like ninety billion relatives on the sofas, on the floor, in the kitchen cupboards. I had the choice of bunking with Sonny or sleeping in the tub.”

Vanessa laughed. “So Abuela gave you her not-a-spare bedroom. Nice.”

“Yeah – she said I could hide here if I wanted, cause everyone knows her sewing room's off-limits. Did she tell you I was here?”

“No.” Vanessa ran her hand along the bedspread. “I've, um, stayed here a few nights. When things were bad at home.”

“Oh.” Usnavi nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. “Um... yeah. It's surprisingly comfortable, right?”

They both looked down at the mattress – and then away, Usnavi blushing furiously, Vanessa biting her lip and trying not to giggle. She cleared her throat.

“Yes, yes it is. Your cousins don't know what they're missing, all crammed into the bathtub.”

He smiled past his embarrassment. “I'll have to hope the secret stays safe.”

“Are they staying for the whole nine days?” Vanessa asked, feeling very educated, but Usnavi shook his head without commenting on her new-found cultural knowledge.

“I asked to go back with them,” he said.

“Really?” Vanessa asked, biting back her immediate protests.

“Yeah. Just... you know, to find stuff out about where my parents are from, where I'd be from if they'd never moved. Family stuff.”

“You've never been there?”

“I have, but it was a vacation. I wasn't paying enough attention.” Usnavi frowned. “But I think they're going to say no. I've already missed a lot of school.”

“Oh, I'm sorry,” Vanessa lied.

“I might go anyway. They don't have to know.”

_What?_

“What?”

What.

This was a surprise.

Vanessa looked at Usnavi, trying to see if he was joking. He had spoken quite calmly, and he wasn't smiling.

“You serious?”

“Yeah.” He glanced over sharply. “Don't tell, okay?”

Vanessa mimed zipping her lips closed.

“I thought about taking some of the money we were given by the family – it's mostly checks, but there's some cash – and there's a safe in the bodega. I know it's not really my money, but it's not like it's totally stealing. I could give it back when I'm older. It might not be enough for a plane ticket, but there are buses and boats...” he trailed off.

Vanessa was staring.

“So... this is a real plan?”

“Kind of. I don't know.”

“Huh.”

Vanessa stood.

“Where are you going?”

“To get some water. Are you hungry? Thirsty?”

“Um, thirsty, yeah, but you don't have to – ”

“Shush. Sit. Stay.”

“Woof,” Usnavi added sarcastically, but he didn't move.

In the kitchen, Vanessa grabbed two bottles of water from the fridge and one of the leftover sandwich plates she'd cling-wrapped earlier, shoving everything into a plastic grocery bag from under the sink.

Her mind was whirling.

Usnavi wanted to run away. And he wasn't just _running_ _away_ , not like she'd always thought of doing, running with no destination. No. He was running towards something. Another home, somewhere he belonged.

It was not something Vanessa would ever have. The only place she belonged was exactly where she was; she didn't know what it meant to pursue something, to see it in the distance and have your heart skip with recognition.

But could she,

might she...

share?

She made up her mind. She would run. If he wanted, if he would let her, they could run together.

She snuck back through the assembled mourners, who were giving some pretty emotional toasts, hiding the plastic bag behind her back. As she passed a drinks table, she spotted a green glass bottle, two-thirds empty, that she didn't think anyone would miss. She grabbed it, and a couple of glasses, and slipped back into the sewing room.

Usnavi had removed his tie, and was scrubbing at his face with a cotton off-cut of something. Vanessa flopped down on the mattress and rolled one of the bottles of water over to him.

“Thanks. What's that for?” Usnavi indicated the champagne bottle.

“Toasting. Later. Drink first, eat first. Here.”

“Oh – no, thanks, I'm not hungry.”

Usnavi attempted to wave away the selection of slightly squashed sandwiches. Vanessa, well practised at minding the nutrition of others, told him he had to eat at least two or else.

“You're not allowed to starve in a house full of food. That's stupid.”

“I'm not hungry.”

“Doesn't matter.”

“I... I don't have to do what you say, you know.”

“You want me to get Abuela Claudia in here?”

Usnavi looked petulant.

“You fight dirty,” he mumbled, grabbing a sandwich at random.

Vanessa laughed, and waited til he was done eating before broaching the necessary subject.

“So.”

“Yeah?” He misread her expression. “Oh, do you need to leave? It's okay, it was cool of you to come and hang out, I don't – ”

“Shh.” Vanessa held her hand out. “Look. Did you mean it about leaving? What you said before?”

“Oh. Well, I guess. It was just a plan, you know? I'm thinking about it. Why, do you think it's a bad idea?”

“No. I was going to say that if you meant it – _really_ meant it – that I wanted, um. I was going to offer to come with you.”

Usnavi blinked at her slowly.

“You... what?”

“I'd offer. You don't have to agree, but if you decide that this is something you want, I could... be company.”

“Okay, um... hang on.” Usnavi put a hand to his head for a moment. “You're offering to come with me? To the Dominican Republic.”

“Yes. But don't think about me, okay? Is this something you want?”

“I think... I think...” Usnavi grabbed another sandwich and started eating it absent-mindedly. “If I imagine going... I mean, I can't imagine it. Not really.”

“Okay...”

“But I do know that Abuela Claudia would be upset.” He frowned. “And my aunt and uncle. And everyone else. If I went without telling. I should wait.”

He nodded decisively.

“Yeah. I'll wait. I'll do it properly.”

Vanessa felt her heart sinking, but forced a smile. “You'll keep everyone happy.”

“Yeah...” Usnavi looked at her, suspicious. “Is that why you offered? So I'd have to decide? You knew what I should do.”

“You got me,” lied Vanessa. “A friendly reminder: patience and faith, our two greatest virtues.”

“Sure.” Usnavi smiled. “Did you still want to toast?”

“Oh, yeah. Here.”

“Cheers.”

They sipped.

“Wow. That's – ”

“Really gross.”

“Yeah. Geez, how can adults like this stuff?” Vanessa swirled her glass, eyeing the contents skeptically.

“I guess you're not supposed to drink it at room temperature,” said Usnavi.

“Good point.”

“We'll try it cold sometime.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I bet it tastes good cold.”

“Okay,” said Vanessa, reaching up to put her glass on the sewing machine stand. “Let's make a deal. We'll try it together.”

“It has to be a special occasion, though,” said Usnavi.

“Okay. If, or when, you go on your big trip home, I'll throw you a going-away party. We'll have it then.”

“We might be waiting a while,” Usnavi pointed out.

“It can be an incentive. You're not allowed to try it before. Deal?”

“Okay... if I get to go to DR, you get me a bottle. And... do you have somewhere you want to go?”

What a question.

What

a

question.

“Oh... anywhere,” Vanessa smiled.

“Anywhere?”

“Yep. But I'm definitely going.”

“Okay... so me to DR and you to Anywhere. First one to go gets a bottle of champagne.”

“And it has to be cold.”

They shook hands, and ended up drinking the rest of the bottle's contents, warm and flat as they were.

***

And Vanessa wanted to stay. She really did.

Usnavi fell asleep, the combined effects of champagne and spent grief being too much for him. After moving the sandwiches and bottles away from his sprawled form, Vanessa wanted nothing more than to stay and lie next to him. It would be kind of weird, sure, but she knew she could trust Usnavi.

And it might, perhaps, be the start of something.

Which is why she went back home.

He didn't deserve someone so selfish in his life. Vanessa hadn't even thought of how Abuela Claudia would feel if the two of them disappeared, so intoxicating had she found the idea of escape.

She would have just gone.

She walked home slowly, reluctantly, dragging her feet through the snow and thinking that if she ever did get the chance to leave, it wouldn't be because she deserved it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not from the Dominican Republic, nor do I have any friends who are/have visited that I could ask for help -- all the info I found was kind of mixed up and/or anecdotal. So if anyone wants to make any corrections, please do feel free.
> 
> Other comments welcome also, of course! xoxo AL


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With thanks to DonOsservatore for the prom idea, and for being such an enthusiastic sweetheart.
> 
> Side note: there are some frank (though not graphic) discussions of /sex stuff/ in here. Not a ton, but I didn't want to leave off the warning. Love to all xoxo

Less than a year after Vanessa had finished school, she decided that running away should really have a plan. It just made more sense.

***

That morning had not started well. Vanessa had fallen asleep with the curtains open, and woke with the sun slicing through the window and across her face. Her mouth and eyes felt sandy.

Actually, the night before had not gone well either, Vanessa remembered. Groaning, she slipped out of bed and began retrieving her clothes from the floor. She grabbed a pillow from the rug and tossed it back on the bed. The sight of the rumpled sheets made her face flush with something like embarrassment, something like irritation.

Whatever. So last night had been a bust, no big deal. Vanessa tried to put it from her mind as she showered, then tried even harder as she pulled on her work clothes, distracting herself with her possible earring choices... and when that didn't work, she yanked the sheets off her bed and set out fresh ones as quickly as she could, one eye on the time so she wouldn't be late for work. She could get coffee on the way.

***

“Ah! _¡Gracias a Dios!_ ”

Vanessa stopped with her hand outstretched towards the bodega door. Daniela was waving her over to the salon excitedly. Vanessa sighed, thinking longingly of coffee, and trudged over.

“What's up, Dani?”

“Nothing, nothing, I thought you were going to be late.”

Vanessa huffed.

“When have I been late so far?”

“I know, but if you were ever going to be late, or hit by a bus, or abducted by aliens, it would be today,” grinned Daniela, pulling Vanessa through the door behind her.

“Who's been abducted by aliens?” asked Carla, not looking up from her cart, where she was laying out her tools with as much care as if she were prepping for surgery.

“No-one! Aren't we lucky?”

Daniela poked Vanessa playfully in the side. Vanessa knew she was expected to join in with the joking, but the taut feeling she'd woken with hadn't drained so far away from the surface as she'd hoped. She jerked away from Daniela's touch, and went quickly to put her purse away in the back.

Standing in the storeroom, she pinched the bridge of her nose for a second and took a deep breath, comforting herself with the almost-familiar scent of hairspray and lotion.

It was going to be a long day – _another_ long day. It was spring formal/prom season, which was the reason Daniela had taken on Vanessa in the first place, as extra help – and the dance tonight was at the nearby high school, which had made the salon a very popular choice. They had filled every available slot over a week ago.

“Vanessa!” called Daniela. “ _¡_ _Échate pa'ca!_ ”

“Coming...”

Daniela had her oversized appointments book open and was running a perfectly shaped red nail down the day's listings. Vanessa could hear it scratching across the paper.

“So, mostly styling, some extensions, a couple of tints – Vanessa, you'll be on washing and sweeping, and with Carla when she does the updos, and I'll borrow you for the tints and highlights –”

“I _know,_ ” Vanessa snapped.

Daniela frowned at her. Vanessa pressed her lips together for a moment, then tried to smile.

“Sorry. I mean, I know the drill by now, right? This is our – what, fifth time in the ring together?”

Carla nodded happily as she tried to untangle two dryer cords that had become twisted. Daniela didn't smile; she raised an eyebrow.

“What's the matter with you, _chacha_?” she asked.

“What? Nothing. I haven't had coffee yet.” Vanessa shrugged apologetically. “Sorry.”

“No, no coffee is _tired_. You're tense.”

Daniela put her book down and marched over, squaring herself up in front of Vanessa and looking her up and down. Vanessa resisted the urge to back away.

“Didn't you go out last night?”

“Yeah? So? I'm not hungover, I only had one – ”

“ _So,_ when you go out, you hook up. And when you hook up, you're not tense – it's the _only_ time you're not tense. So I ask again: _what is the matter?_ ”

Vanessa swallowed dryly and shook her head.

“Did something bad happen?” Daniela asked, her eyebrows pitching together suddenly. Carla looked up from her untangling efforts, eyes large.

“No. _No,_ Daniela, geez. Nothing happened.”

“So you didn't hook up? Is that it?”

“No, I...” Vanessa gritted her teeth, feeling the back of her neck flush hot with anger – anger at herself, and at that idiot she'd taken home last night, and at Daniela for making her do this, and at Carla for staring, and at the fact that this was going to be all over the _barrio_ by tonight.

“I _did,_ ” she said, “but _nothing happened_. Okay?”

And predictably, Daniela grinned. Just as predictably, Carla blinked with confusion. Vanessa clenched her fists.

“Did he fall asleep?” Daniela laughed. “Vanessa, I'm ashamed of you.”

“Oh...” Carla said softly.

“ _He_ did just fine,” Vanessa bit out. “Nothing happened for _me_. Okay? So _excuse_ me for being a little tense.”

“Oh,” came from Carla again.

Vanessa scowled. _What, does she not know any other words?_

Daniela's face had cleared with understanding – she was still grinning, but looked sympathetic. Sort of.

“Ay! _Pobrecita._ ” She shook her head. “But why still so tense _now_? What, do you not have a vibrator?”

“Ugh, Daniela!” Vanessa rolled her eyes.

Daniela looked surprised. “What? It doesn't always happen. And if that's what you need, then – ”

“Oh, but it's not,” said Carla, abandoning her cart and coming towards Vanessa with shining eyes. “It's not, is it, Vanessa? It's about _contact_ ,” she smiled.

Vanessa gritted her teeth again and looked up at the ceiling, wishing she'd just be abducted by aliens already.

“That's what you're looking for, isn't it?” pressed Carla. “You could just stay home every night, but you go out, and you dance, and you take home these men, and you're really looking for one to stay, aren't you?”

“ _No._ ” Vanessa narrowed her eyes, feeling the heat spread out from her neck. “I don't want them to stay. I never want them to stay. And whatever you think that makes me –”

“I don't think that makes you anything, I'm just saying – ”

“ _I'm_ just saying. It's my choice.”

“But maybe you choose the _wrong ones_ ,” said Carla, clasping her hands together. “On purpose. So you won't want them to stay. But you don't have to, Vanessa, my pastor says –”

“ _Carla,_ ” Vanessa almost shouted, “will you stop it? Just stop it. Stop trying to _save_ me _,_ dammit,” she added, forcefully – spitefully, frantically, desperate for Carla to just _back off_ and take her shining eyes and clasped hands and romantic notions with her.

It worked, not that Vanessa felt good about it. Carla's face fell, and she stepped back towards her cart.

“Are you two done?” asked Daniela, all humor gone from her voice. “Good. Vanessa, go stretch your legs and get a coffee. You got ten minutes.”

Vanessa was surprised at the reprieve, but she didn't question it. She checked her pocket for money and headed for the door.

Outside, she paused between the salon and the bodega, leaning back against the rough brick of the wall. She felt like such a tool. Carla never got to her like this, not usually. Which meant... ugh. Surely that didn't mean she was right. She _wasn't_ right.

It was such a damn _cliché._ Looking for love in all the wrong places, yada yada. Poor little lost girl, Daddy issues, Mommy issues, neglect issues, _whatever_ , wanting someone to make her Feel Special.

But that's just what Vanessa didn't want. She barely had full conversations with these guys; there hadn't been a single one she'd regretted sending away. One time she'd refused to tell the guy her name, just for the fun of it.

So did that mean that Daniela was right? Was all this just looking for a moment of physical release? Vanessa had never liked doing it by herself. But sometimes she found herself so strained, so twisted by the end of the day, that sex was the only way she could unwind. And, yeah, okay, she'd started to rely on it.

Sometimes the energy she spent dancing was enough... but last night, she hadn't even wanted to dance. She'd been tired. She'd taken the guy home as soon as she could, and he had seemed like he knew what he was doing, and Vanessa had needed it so badly, and it had started out fun enough. And then nothing. She hadn't even had the heart to fake it, so the guy had gotten all weird and defensive. He'd left.

And she'd screamed into her pillow.

Well, fine. Maybe that was all there was to it. Vanessa lifted her chin and took a deep breath.

So she had, despite her best efforts, turned into her mother – needing a regular dose of oblivion just to function.

Fine.

 _Fine_.

At least she wouldn't be killing any brain cells.

She marched into the bodega and ordered her coffee from Sonny. Usnavi was out back, and Sonny only seemed interested in complaining about having to work Saturday mornings, so Vanessa didn't linger.

***

By the time the caffeine kicked in, Vanessa was feeling a little more put-together. The girls started filing in from eight, all youth and nerves and high hopes. The mothers, too, all bright smiles and vicarious pleasure.

Vanessa did her best to avoid the mothers, as she washed and conditioned and fetched and cleared and swept. They brought out a curious mix of irritation and jealousy in her – professional irritation, inherited from Daniela and Carla, when they spoke over their daughter's tentative suggestions (“no, honey, you can't pull off such tight curls,” or “oh, but it would look so good a little lighter! Trust me, sweetheart,”) and personal resentment, when she remembered stealing a dress from her mother's closet to wear to her prom, staying out all night and her mom never even noticing. She didn't think her mom even knew she'd had a prom.

But the girls were another matter. Vanessa had not expected to find them so adorable before she'd started working here – they were barely younger than her – but she did. They cared _so much_ , bringing in pictures of celebrities' hairstyles, and color samples from their dresses to make sure the tints didn't clash – and quietly panicking when their dates sent them confused messages asking about corsages and limo shares.

Vanessa made sure to smile at them, offering drinks that they were too nervous to accept, finding places for their purses. She asked each one about their plans for the night as she gently tipped their head back into the basin.

Vanessa realised that she was probably trying extra hard today, just to prove to Daniela and Carla that while she may intrinsically be a jerk, she was capable of acting around it. She tried to anticipate their requests, even putting on one of those stupid hip-holster things so she had a constant supply of spare hairpins and heat protectant.

She considered apologizing to Carla, although that would risk Carla thinking that Vanessa was okay with being poked with questions about her not-a-love life. She was spared making the decision by the fact that Carla was even busier than she was, and Vanessa wasn't going to blurt out “sorry I swore at you and kind of accused you of calling me a whore” in front of a crowd of high-school juniors.

Still. It was after noon before Carla started returning Vanessa's half-smiles in the mirror and another hour after that before she placed her hand on Vanessa's waist to move past her, which was always Carla's tell when she felt comfortable with someone.

“Carla, have you eaten?” Vanessa asked abruptly.

“Huh? No, I'll eat later,” said Carla, blinking hard as she focused on pinning a curl in place.

“You need energy,” said Vanessa, frowning. “Your sugar levels...”

“I'm fine.” Carla shook her head, then glanced up at Vanessa in the mirror. She looked a little jittery. “Um, maybe a soda?”

Vanessa excused herself and hurried over to the bodega.

It was lunchtime; though quieter than the salon, there were eight people in line by the register, and several more grabbing things from the shelves. Usnavi had a pen behind his ear, his stock-taking clipboard under one arm, and seemed to be trying to ring something up while simultaneously calling instructions to Sonny over his shoulder. He still smiled at Vanessa when he saw her.

Vanessa did what she always did when it was this busy and she was in a hurry, which was to just hold up her items so Usnavi could see what she was taking – he gave her a thumbs-up, and she headed back out with them. She would come back later in the day to pay.

Once back inside, Vanessa bullied Carla into sitting down for five minutes to eat two mini babybels and a box of raisins.

“I can spray lotion as well as you can, okay?”

She gently shoved Carla away from the girl sitting at her station and towards the stock room, ignoring her protests, grabbing the spray bottle out of her hand and replacing it with a carton of apple juice.

Vanessa turned to the waiting girl, suddenly aware that Daniela was watching her.

“So what are you getting? Straightened and half up? Cool. Okay, pro tip: try to make eye-contact in the mirror instead of turning around. It'll feel awkward, but you're less likely to get a hairpin in the ear...”

***

“Damn, look at you!”

Vanessa whistled as Nina stopped in the middle of the salon floor and gave a twirl, arms above her head, grinning.

It was almost dark, and the salon was otherwise empty; Daniela had offered to do Nina's hair for free, provided she wait until after hours. As late as it was, Nina had already put on her dress: a knee length, rosy purple number that hugged her to halfway down her thighs and then flared out towards the hem. It looked a little mature for a high school dance, which honestly made it just right for Nina.

“How much time do we have?” asked Vanessa.

“Like forty minutes? Jandro said he'd come get me here, so...”

“I bet he was glad to avoid picking you up from your dad.”

“Nearly cried with relief when I told him. Hey, Daniela.”

Daniela, walking in from the back room, stopped and made a big show of gasping and falling back with her hand over her heart.

“ _¡E_ _st_ _á_ _s_ _hermosa!_ How is it possible? Just last week you were cutting your own hair and skinning your knee from falling off your bike...”

“Pfft. I was five.”

“Not five any more.” Daniela looked Nina up and down appraisingly. “Come over here, I'll give you a style to match your outfit.”

“I left my hair wet like you said.”

“Good girl. Vanessa? Come help me comb."

Vanessa did as she was asked, although Daniela was perfectly capable of  _combing_ without assistance.

Carla came back in from throwing out the trash and went through a similar performance to Daniela's. “So grown up, Nina!” She grabbed her jacket, like she was on her way back out, but she came and pulled up the chair next to Nina's. She looked oddly excited, Vanessa thought.

“Did you ask her yet?” Carla asked Daniela in a piercing whisper.

“Not yet,” said Daniela. She turned to Vanessa. “The last Prom day is next weekend,” she began.

“I know,” nodded Vanessa.

“So do you want to keep on here after that?”

Vanessa blinked.

“I... hadn't thought about it. Are you offering?”

“Yes. Interested?”

“Uh...”

Was she?

She had been pleased to get the job here, after her two total failures at waitressing, and she had saved a lot from the extra-busy days. But she'd been thinking about leaving again. (It was never far from her mind.) If she stayed... well, she would have to _stay_. Here. And the everyday money wouldn't be as good... though it would be more regular...

“Can I think about it?”

“Sure. Tell me tomorrow, or the next day. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Carla squealed with delight as though the contract had already been signed in golden ink. She jumped up and hugged Vanessa excitedly, before becoming distracted by the door opening.

“Hey guys, what's going on?”

Benny sauntered in, work tie slung over his shoulder, followed by Usnavi.

“Woah, Nina!” Benny stopped when he got a little closer, his grin turning wolfish. “Cinderella tonight?”

Nina blushed, but returned his gaze coolly, giving him a royal wave. “Yes. I am Cinderella, and these are the trained rats that do my hair for me.”

“Hey!” Vanessa rapped her on the head with the end of a comb. “Who's a rat? It was birds that did her hair in the movie.”

“Sorry. These are the pigeons that do my hair. _Ow!_ ”

The boys laughed, and Benny hopped up onto the nearest available counter space.

“Oh, man!” Vanessa clapped a hand to her forehead. “Usnavi, I never paid you from before, I'm sorry. Did you already count up?”

“Don't worry about it,” said Usnavi, clambering up to sit next to Benny. “We can sort it out tomorrow.”

Vanessa nodded, watching him settle on the counter. His movements were slow and awkward, she noted, as she went to put the combs away on Daniela's cart. Like he was stiff.

Well. He probably was. This might be the first time she'd seen him outside of the store in weeks - months – he'd spent all his time there since he'd started running the place after graduation. Like, right after. Which was _really soon,_ if you asked Vanessa. The rest of the class had been going to end-of-year parties; he'd been negotiating milk-delivery times and restocking packs of gum. Not that he _had_  asked her; he hadn't asked anybody. He'd just acted like it was inevitable, and everyone had gone along with it. 

Vanessa thought about how busy he'd been earlier, and how that wasn't even unusual. She tried to imagine someone expecting her to run the salon on a day like today, and shuddered.

No wonder he looked like the way he did, she thought, still watching – Benny was leaning forward, talking animatedly, and Usnavi was supporting himself with his hands on the counter's edge like he was afraid he was going to fall over.

Usnavi glanced up and Vanessa looked down quickly at the cart, pretending she was straightening it out.

She was suddenly, almost entirely, overwhelmed with the desire to take him home for the night. Not to have sex with, of course not... of course... But she wanted to make him lie down in a bed with clean sheets, force him to sleep straight through for twelve hours, wake him up with coffee and an orange and then convince him to take the day off. That was all.

She could almost see it. She could wait until he was on his way home and then kidnap him. She could walk up to him right now and take him by the hand and drag him out. He'd probably let her...

Except he couldn't take a day off. And she didn't have any oranges at her place, and she made terrible coffee. And even if he could sleep through the noise of the train outside her window, there was every chance Vanessa's mom would smash something in the kitchen or bathroom in the middle of the night.

Vanessa shook her head – and realised someone was saying her name. She glanced up to see everyone looking at her.

“Huh?”

Carla laughed. “Do you want to go out tonight?”

“It was a good business day,” said Daniela. “I feel like celebrating. And Cinderella here is making me long for my lost youth.”

“Ha,” said Cinderella. “Your youth was never lost. It was shot out of a cannon. With confetti, and like, a metric ton of glitter.”

“Shh. You'll give away all my secrets.”

“This sounds fun. Can we come?” asked Benny. “I'm in kind of dancing mood myself now.”

His eyes remained on Nina, though his smile had lost its predatory edge; it had grown soft, in fact. Familiar. _Huh._ Vanessa wondered when he'd started looking at Nina like that.

“Of course!” Daniela grinned. “You too, Usnavi?”

Usnavi laughed and stretched, rubbing the back of his neck. “Nah... I'm pretty beat.”

“Oh, come on! We have to have wingmen! Vanessa needs a hook-up,” said Daniela.

“ _Daniela,_ ” protested Vanessa.

“Oh, really?” Benny's eyebrows lifted.

“Oh, yes," said Daniela. " _Very_ disappointing night last night, if you know what I mean...”

Daniela waggled her eyebrows suggestively as Benny laughed and Nina giggled with her hand over her mouth.

“Dani, one of these days you're going to choke to death on your own tongue,” Vanessa called across the noise. She kind of wanted to laugh as well – but she was looking at Usnavi, who was looking away. Looking down. Like he was _disappointed._ In what? In her?

Surely... surely he wouldn't. He wouldn't judge her. He knew her.

He was looking away from her.

For a few seconds, Vanessa hated everything. She felt a dull ache along the lines of her pulse, and that now-routine twisted feeling somewhere just below her lungs. She pushed it down and set her teeth.

 _Fine_.

Whatever. It didn't matter.

...And her idea had been stupid, anyway. She couldn't take him home, he needed someone who was going to stay here, which Vanessa was definitely not going to do. And it wasn't like she had romantic feelings for him. She just wanted to feed him oranges, apparently.

“Yes,” she said.

And then somehow found herself saying: “And yes.”

“Yes-and-yes?” Carla echoed. “To going out?”

“And staying,” said Vanessa, very carefully not looking at Usnavi. “I want to stay and work here. I'm... going to save up before I move away.” (Run away.) (Same difference, by now.)

Daniela was already smiling, and Carla was clapping her hands.

“ _¡_ _Bueno!_ ”

“ _¡A toda madre!”_ added Benny, with a terrible accent, making Nina laugh.

Usnavi leaned back against the mirror.

“Cool, we'll be neighbours.”

And he smiled. And despite everything, Vanessa smiled back. Perhaps she had been imagining things before. She had reacted too strongly earlier, with Carla - she should stop looking for reasons to get annoyed with people. Usnavi did know her, after all, and he had no reason to care what she did, and he was happy they were going to be neighbours - in fact,

in fact.

He looked so happy that Vanessa found herself wondering if,

maybe,

...why was he looking at her like that...

(did he like oranges? she could ask)

 _no_.

Come on. She wasn't staying, he literally _just_ heard her say she was planning on going away. He couldn't be thinking about that.

But she'd stay... you know, for _now_. There was no point in leaving until she could afford some place better. No need to rush.

Right?

 


	5. Chapter 5

Vanessa ran away from home in the middle of the night.

She hadn't planned to. She had intended to leave in a totally reasonable manner, at a totally reasonable hour. She had spent her day off packing, and had asked for the following day off as well, for the actual move. All arranged carefully.

She'd worked hard; sorting and packing and throwing out way more trash than she felt should have even fit in the whole apartment. (She found a stack of magazines under the dresser, one of which was exclaiming over the invention of the jegging, and felt like she'd unearthed an archaeological dig.)

In addition to this, Vanessa cleaned as she went. Just a cursory clean at first, but then she thought of Abuela Claudia and imagined how she would raise her eyebrows over the ancient magazines and the weird black speckles under the windowsill – and then began working in earnest, wiping up dust and scrubbing at stains that had been hidden for years.

It felt pure, somehow, as though she were performing a ritual in memoriam of her past life in that place.

And

then

the movers had called.

There had been a mix-up, they couldn't come tomorrow... no, not even later in the day, especially not later in the day, unless she were willing to pay for overtime... no? Oh, well, sorry about that.

And Vanessa had been left standing surrounded by boxes, feeling her mind sliding back to old, dark places she had been trying so hard to avoid. The ones that whispered and tugged at her and told her that nothing ever went right for her, that she might as well give up and stay in this hole where she belonged.

That no-one was going to help.

_Of course it didn't work out. Of course it didn't. Nothing does._

_I can't swap my days off work, Daniela left tomorrow quiet on purpose so they wouldn't need me, and I can't take another day, so I'll have to wait another week or pay their stupid after-hours fee, which I obviously can't do,_

_nothing works out, it never works out, not for me, it won't –_

Vanessa closed her eyes and took a deep breath, holding it in and letting it out slowly.

She picked up the rag she'd been using to clean and started work on the room's shelving. It was discoloured... there was half a can of polish under the sink in the kitchen. She'd do that next. She could clean the kitchen cabinets. And the bathroom cabinets. And the tub.

In, hold, out.

She gritted her teeth and scrubbed.

A memory was thrown at her, unwanted: Nina's farewell, when she'd left for college, and everyone had shown up, like half the freaking street, all to say goodbye, and Vanessa had been there along with everyone else, feeling like the worst friend in the world, because all she could think about was herself, and how unfair it all was, and

 _no-one will wave for me when I go,_ she had thought.

(There wasn't as much polish as she had thought; she had to work carefully to spread it far enough.)

Another: just a few weeks ago, in those crazy few days when Vanessa had had to watch everyone else's dreams come true, those few hours when Usnavi had stood on the street and proclaimed his good fortune to the heavens, louder than she could ever remember him being, and Vanessa had been left sidelined, realising that it might, after all, be too late to become the kind of person that gets spontaneous parades thrown for them.

In, hold, out.

(Vanessa had always thought of the kitchen as being kind of bare, but when everything had been taken out of its place and laid over the counters, there was a surprising amount to deal with. She washed everything that was sticky, dusted everything else, then carefully placed it all back once the shelves and the insides of the drawers were dry.)

No. No, she hadn't been _left_ sidelined; she'd sidelined herself. She'd had to. She hadn't belonged to those celebrations, she couldn't have joined in. It would have hurt too much.

(Camila's baking-soda-and-ammonia-for-the-bathtub tip was gold. _Gold._ )

It wasn't Usnavi's fault, or Nina's, that her life was... what it was.

In fact –

Vanessa looked over at her boxes, stacked by the door.

She walked back to her room and stared at rolls of bubble wrap and the sleeping bag on her bare mattress.

In fact, 

the sleeping bag had been a loan from Nina. Camila had also given Vanessa a stack of old fiesta plates and a pretty good cast-iron frying pan.

Benny and Nina had both insisted that Vanessa hold off on trying to put up her Ikea shelving until they could come and help. (The two of them together were almost unmanageably bossy, but Vanessa had decided that if they wanted to labor on her behalf, she wouldn't say no.)

Kevin had given Vanessa his old office sofa from the dispatch; it was currently blocking up all the available space in the front room, awaiting the absent movers. Kevin had claimed he didn't want to carry it up three flights to his new office – Vanessa suspected that he had given it to her to be nice and didn't want to admit it.

He'd been nice. They all had.

 _Daniela_ had been nice – there was no other word for it, though it was not a description that often found itself attached to her. Vanessa wouldn't even have been doing this without her help on the lease... and Usnavi's.

There were several more pieces of furniture waiting at Usnavi's place, things he had saved of Abuela Claudia's. The sewing table, an old-school winged armchair, a side-table, a barely-used toaster oven, a small mountain of throw pillows. A vase he knew Vanessa had always liked.

He'd saved Vanessa all the bubble wrap and boxes that had come with the new fittings for the bodega's “renovation”, as Sonny insisted on calling it – more than she could possibly have needed.

And he... well, he hadn't asked her out again. Yet. He'd been calling. Like, during her breaks at work, to see how she was doing. He almost always asked her to stop by the bodega on her home, which she usually did. He insisted that she pick up coffee from him every morning. He kept spontaneously offering favors r.e. Vanessa's Big Move, some of which had been useful and gratefully received, while others had been... not. Vanessa had mentioned maybe getting a murphy bed, and Usnavi had offered to _build_ her one. From scratch. Sceptical questioning had revealed that no, he had never made one before, nor done any kind of carpentry at all, ever, but he'd “always wanted to try it.” Sonny had mimed hammering a nail through his hand, and Vanessa had politely declined.

Vanessa found herself smiling now, thinking about it. She glanced down at the cleaning rag in her hand. Her fingers were red and chafed.

She checked the time on her phone – it was almost ten. The store would probably be closed, but Sonny and Usnavi had been unofficially staying after hours to carry on with the improvements.

It would make sense to call ahead... but Vanessa needed cheering up, and nothing could do that quite like the expression that appeared on Usnavi's face when he saw her unexpectedly. Now that she was finally allowing herself to enjoy that kind of thing, it seemed a shame to waste it.

***

“Vanessa!”

_Ah, shoot._

Not that Vanessa was sorry to see Sonny – she already found her spirits lifting as she returned his grin – but he was standing alone at the counter, and the lights were off in the back room.

“You looking for my cousin?”

Vanessa shrugged, coming all the way in and letting the door swing shut behind her.

“Don't be coy, Vanessa,” Sonny said, waving a screwdriver at her. “Romance is a beautiful thing.”

Vanessa rolled her eyes (fondly) (mostly fondly) and changed the subject.

“What are you doing?” she asked, indicating the screwdriver and the large silver box-ish thing it was being used on.

“Excellent question. I am setting up our brand new – ” Sonny turned the thing around with a flourish, “ – panini press!”

He said this with the kind of enthusiasm that would normally be reserved for the unveiling of a new sports car, or a maybe a baby. To be fair, the look on his face held a comparable level of affection.

“Just arrived this afternoon. It's part of my plan to expand the deli. Fancy sandwiches for all those office people moving in across the street.”

“Nice.” Vanessa glanced around. “This place looks better every time I come in here.”

Sonny smirked. “Usnavi would agree with you.”

“Smooth.” Vanessa raised an eyebrow. “Has your cousin delegated all his flirting to you?”

“You wish.”

“Hah.”

“Seriously, though.” Sonny finished screwing what looked like the handle onto the panini machine, and carried it over to the deli counter. “Let me make you something. I want to test this bad boy out.”

“What do you want to make?” asked Vanessa, hopping up onto the counter next to the register. Her body was beginning to realise it hadn't received food since mid-morning – and while her instincts wouldn't normally lean into Sonny's potential cooking skills, the only food she had at home was canned soup.

Sonny already had his nose in the machine's instruction manual, and was messing around with the settings.

“Let's keep it simple. Cheese? And I can break out the good ham, you should fortify for your move tomorrow.”

Vanessa bit her lip. “Oh. Yeah, that's... not happening.”

“What?” Sonny looked up from the booklet.

“Movers screwed up the schedule. I have to wait.”

“Aw, that sucks. Okay, forget the ham, we need some comfort food. _Indulgence,_ that's the thing – ”

“Ham can be comforting,” Vanessa said, a little alarmed, as Sonny began digging through a box of supplies.

He waved her off. “Trust me.”

Vanessa nodded, uncertain, but didn't say anything. Even when he sent her to the produce stand by the door to grab some bananas. She could exercise a little trust.

***

“Sonny – ”

“I know.”

“Seriously, Sonny – ”

“ _I know._ ”

“I don't know what I ever did to deserve this.” Vanessa took another bite. “I must have done something amazing in a former life. Like discovering a cure for a disease.”

“Don't flatter yourself,” Sonny said, voice muffled through his own mouthful. “This is all me.”

“...Uh, guys?”

Vanessa and Sonny turned to see Usnavi standing in the doorway, carrying a large box _._ He looked a little confused to see Vanessa sitting next to his register, but he was also making _that face_ – the one Vanessa had hoped to see. Ugh, that face. It made the world, the air, seem soft. It made Vanessa want to curl around him like a cat.

She swallowed, lowering her eyes for a second, then waved Usnavi over, holding out her sandwich.

“You have to try this.”

“What is it?” Usnavi asked, putting down the box he'd come in with.

“ _That_ ,” said Sonny, aglow, “is the headliner for our new deli menu, if you've got any brain at all.”

“You made this?” Usnavi approached the sandwich distrustfully.

“Hey, hey, what's with that tone?”

“Nothing, I'm just remembering the last time you tried to cook – ”

Sonny looked ready to launch into a speech in defence of his culinary honor. Vanessa decided to cut it short; she leaned over and pushed her sandwich at Usnavi's face. It was a little awkward; he avoided eye contact as he took a bite – but distraction was swift to follow.

“Oh.” Usnavi closed his eyes. “Okay. _Okay_...”

“ _Right?_ ” said Vanessa fervently.

“Sonny. What – what is in this. Seriously. Also, please make me one. Or two. Or seven.”

Sonny raised his hands triumphantly. “Told you so!” He returned to his station and started preparing another sandwich. “This patent-pending miracle is cream cheese, nutella, banana slices, and a sprinkle of chopped hazelnuts.”

“Write that down,” Vanessa instructed, “and put it on my tombstone, because these will almost definitely be the cause of my death.”

“But what a way to go,” intoned Sonny, slicing bananas. “Oh, Usnavi, Vanessa has bad news.”

“What?” Usnavi's smile dropped immediately. “Why, what happened, what's wrong?”

“Calm down,” Vanessa said – hypocritically, she knew, but she was rested and full of calories, and her panic had long since ebbed away – “it's nothing bad. The movers messed up and I can't go tomorrow. I have to wait.”

“Oh.” Usnavi nodded slowly. “I'm sorry.”

Vanessa raised an eyebrow, then glanced behind her to check that Sonny wasn't paying attention. “Yeah, right,” she said softly.

Usnavi blushed. “I _am,_ ” he insisted.

Vanessa kicked him softly on the shin. Like he'd be sorry she wasn't leaving... but he didn't smile. He swallowed nervously and leaned side-on against the counter, looking up at her.

“I was going to wait until you were in the new place before... y'know.” He coughed. “Before I asked, uh, you. Out. Again.”

“Oh.” Vanessa had wondered what was taking so long. Although – “Not that _you_ did the asking the first time.” She waved behind her, indicating their chef.

“Yeah, I know,” Usnavi said, rubbing the back of his neck. “But still.”

“Yeah.” Vanessa found herself nodding. And, as much as she hated to, she had to say what came next: “I agree.”

But she hadn't been clear enough; he tipped his head on the side, enquiring. (Adorable.) ( _Stop that._ )

“Waiting's a good idea,” she said. She glanced at her hands. They were covered in chocolate smudges.

“Until you're somewhere happier,” said Usnavi, a little sadly.

“Yeah...” Vanessa felt a sting of guilt. “No, I mean – it's not that I wasn't _happy_ here, I just...”

_I just can't be here. I can't look at anything on this street without being reminded of a person that I don't want to be. There was good here, but it's lost in everything else, it's mired down, and I can't build on it. It's not safe, not for me, not now._

She couldn't say it, she couldn't say any of it, she didn't know how. But Usnavi was nodding anyway, like he understood – or at least like he didn't need her to justify anything.

She smiled at his back as he moved away to collect his completed sandwich.

“Thank you, Sonny.”

“You're welcome,” Sonny said graciously.

Usnavi had eaten half the sandwich before he turned back to his cousin. “Are you up for some more work tonight?”

“You've got to finish that one before I make you another.”

Usnavi rolled his eyes. “Not that. I was thinking – I haven't taken the van back yet.”

“The – _oh,_ the van. Right. You mean – ”

“There's enough time. You think we could – ”

“I think so."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, it should work.” They nodded together earnestly.

“Guys?” Vanessa waved her hands at them until they looked over. “What are you talking about? What van?”

“We kept having to pay for all these different delivery fees,” said Sonny, switching off the panini machine. “For the new fittings and the fridges. So we rented this van for a few days, to pick the stuff up ourselves. Benny got us a deal.”

“It's parked in the alley out back,” Usnavi said, gesturing. “It's not that big, but we have it til tomorrow morning. Interested?”

Vanessa blinked at him, taking a moment to understand. “You... want to help me move?”

“Well, yeah. If you want.”

They were both looking at her. There was no time to process, or try to explain that this was way, way too big of a favor – “Okay,” Vanessa found herself saying. “Okay, thanks.”

“We'll probably have to make two trips,” said Sonny, “or three. How much stuff do you have?”

“Uh...” Vanessa tried to imagine the inside of a van. “There's my bed, the dresser, the sofa... and a bunch of boxes...”

“And the stuff from my place,” said Usnavi. “Maybe three trips?”

"On the safe side," agreed Sonny.

“You guys.” Vanessa shook her head. “No, come on, this is too much. It'll take all night, it's nearly eleven now – ”

“So we'll sleep tomorrow,” said Usnavi. “We'll take the day to recover, it'll be fine.” He moved towards the door, then stopped when he realised the other two weren't following. “What?”

“I'm sorry,” said Sonny, “I must have heard wrong. It sounded like you said you were going to take the day off work.”

“Yeah.”

Sonny paused, as though waiting for a punchline.

“What?"

“ _You're_ going to take the day off work. _You_ are.”

“I am,” Usnavi confirmed, looking nettled. “You can come in if you want to, but – ”

“And miss my opportunity to see Hell freeze over? You've got to be kidding,” Sonny grinned.

Usnavi huffed. “Ha-ha. You guys coming, or what?”

“I need to clean the panini press. You have to after each use, it says so.” Sonny waved his instruction book in the air. “I can get the van and meet you at Vanessa's place.”

“Cool.”

Usnavi turned at the door, waiting for Vanessa – who finally managed to move. She still felt like she should be convincing them not to try this, that they didn't need to lose a day's business over her, that she could wait. But the words wouldn't form. She had stepped into someone else's life: someone who had parades thrown for them.

As they began walking, Vanessa smiled into the night's hazy orange warmth. Her sense of adventure was finally catching up with her. She was going, it was happening. Finally.

“We'll have to be quiet,” she said. “My mom probably won't wake up, but still.”

“You don't want to say goodbye?”

Vanessa shook her head. “I guess I could, to have like... one last moment at home or whatever. But it would also be our _first_ moment together in over a month, so... no.”

“Oh. Right. I'm sorry,” said Usnavi.

And for once, the sympathy didn't sting. It felt completely natural.

And it felt completely natural that he should lay his arm across Vanessa's shoulders, leaning into her as though for comfort, and then it felt completely natural for her to stop and turn and kiss him.

It wasn't frantic, this time, not desperate, or mournful. Just quiet and slow and a little careful – and, as he opened his mouth against hers, sweet.

“I'll have to thank Sonny,” Vanessa said after a minute, when there was space.

“I would have asked you eventually,” protested Usnavi. “I said before, I was _going_ to ask you as soon as – ”

Vanessa smiled into the side of his mouth.

“Not for that, for the sandwich. You taste _amazing._ ”

***

Vanessa ran away from home in the middle of the night.

It was nothing like she'd ever thought it would be.

It took forever, to start with – they got the last of her stuff into the new apartment at six that morning, just as Benny arrived to get the van, and to reprimand them for not waking him to come and help.

(He made a good point. They'd nearly killed themselves on the third and final trip – literally; there had been a close call involving the sofa and a narrow stairwell.)

There was never meant to be anyone _with_ her, for another thing – well, there had been that plan to leave with Usnavi, but that had been a disappearing-into-the-night kind of thing, a fantasy. She hadn't thought that the first sunrise of her new life would find her sprawled out with both Usnavi and and his cousin on her mattress in the middle of the living room floor, like they were a family from a Christmas movie.

She had imagined she'd spend her first day soul-searching, doing something quiet and introspective. But the boys were here, and it wasn't going to get any less social – Nina had called to say she'd be coming over with brunch. Usnavi had already claimed the evening, determined to keep his champagne promise.

And as for the rest...

Vanessa had always expected this to be some massive, dramatic change, that getting to a new place would make her a new person, that there'd always be a line drawn between this part of her life and everything that had come before.

And it was, it was so different. And yet.

The angle of the morning light through the window was different. The sounds from outside were quieter. The air was cooler. The apartment smelled clean and fresh. And Usnavi was lying beside her, stealing sleepy kisses.

It should have felt strange.

It didn't.

It should have felt like dangerous, unexplored territory, like something bizzare and unbelievable, like a dream she should expect to wake up from.

It didn't.

The world hadn't tipped over. It had righted itself. Everything was familiar, suddenly, everything belonged, all the little changes were falling together and slotting into place and solidifying around Vanessa. She closed her eyes, and if anyone had asked her, she could have sworn, really, that it had always been like this.

***

The summer of the blackout, the summer that somehow managed to fit a lifetime into itself several times over, was the hottest of Vanessa's life.

She decided that she didn't mind.

She also decided that running away from home didn't really work if home insisted on coming with you.

She didn't mind that either.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (this chapter is dedicated to all the people in my life who have ever helped me move.) (some of whom might read this.) (hi guys!)
> 
> we're done! hooray! this took longer than I thought it would, but the same can be said for any fic I've ever written... the cheerleading has been so appreciated, you guys.
> 
> xoxo AL


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